


when the mind's free, the body's delicate

by violaceum_vitellina_viridis



Series: wanton boys are we [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: (mentioned) - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Appropriate Safeword Use, Axii, Background Jaskier | Dandelion/Vesemir, Background Polyamory, Background Relationships, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Check Ins, Consensual Mind Control, Crying, Cult of Kate, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Inappropriate use of Axii, M/M, Mind Control, Pain, Pain Kink, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Safeword Use, Shameless Smut, Top Eskel (The Witcher), no beta we die like stregobor fucking should have, no prep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:07:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25504141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violaceum_vitellina_viridis/pseuds/violaceum_vitellina_viridis
Summary: “I want to try something. With you, specifically.”Jaskier is curious about something Eskel said.(See notes for explanation on the tags.)
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Vesemir
Series: wanton boys are we [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847614
Comments: 79
Kudos: 466
Collections: Jaskier or Geralt/others (with or w/out eachother)





	when the mind's free, the body's delicate

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't any of the things i was supposed to be working on today. whoopsie. i reread 'great vices do appear' today because i could and there was a single line in eskel's scene that woke the porn goblin in me. 
> 
> you don't have to read 'great vices' to understand this, i don't think, but it'll give you better context for the dynamic here.
> 
> notes on the tags: jaskier is fucked in this with no prep. it's agreed upon and consensual and he does not recieve any actual injury from it. daddy kink appears a handful of times, as eskel calls vesemir jaskier's daddy, and vesemir appears at the end with jaskier calling him daddy, but is not terribly explicit and not the focus.
> 
> dedicated to kate, because it wouldn't exist without the behemoth of porn that is her birthday fic, and also to shannon, because she encouraged me to cheat on my WIPs today.

“I want to try something. With you, specifically.”

Eskel quirks one brow, leaning back in his chair from where he’d been organizing his Gwent cards. “Oh?”

Jaskier squirms a little under the scrutiny, but doesn’t let it stop him. Shame isn’t something he’s terribly acquainted with. “Something you said,” he says. “The first time you fucked me.”

Eskel chuckles. “I said a lot of things, pretty thing. Which one are you thinking about?”

“When I was under Axii,” Jaskier says. “You said – said I was so relaxed, you could just stick your cock into me. No stretching first.” Jaskier fidgets with the hem of his shirt a little, trying to ignore the way talking about this makes his cock twitch. He knows that Eskel knows, because the Witcher’s nostrils flare and he grins.

“Hm.” Eskel looks over him slowly. “With or without Axii?”

Jaskier jolts at the suggestion of doing this _without_ Axii. He…likes that idea maybe a little too much. “With,” he says. “…this time, at least.”

Eskel’s grin widens, and he shuffles his Gwent cards into a neat deck and puts them away before standing. “Alright,” he says. “Now?”

Jaskier chews his lip. “If – if you want. Yes.”

“Do _you_ want, pretty thing?”

“ _Yes._ ” Jaskier flushes when his voice is more of a breathy whimper than anything else, but Eskel just chuckles and bends slightly to kiss him, soft and sweet for now.

* * *

The kisses have changed by the time they make it to Eskel’s bedroom, no longer soft and sweet but deep and wet instead, Eskel’s grip on Jaskier just this side of bruising. Jaskier whines and presses up into the kisses, into the too-tight hold, cock throbbing already.

Eskel only pulls back from his mouth to strip him of his clothes, and then he’s back. Like a force of nature. Jaskier moans and gives himself over to it, until his tongue is a little sore and his lips are tingling, swollen from the friction and pressure.

“ _Eskel,_ ” Jaskier whines, yanking at Eskel’s clothes. The Witcher laughs and shoves him, until Jaskier tumbles back onto the bed gracelessly.

“Go on,” Eskel jerks his head up toward the top of the bed. Jaskier scrambles up, collapsing onto his back with his head on the pillows. He watches avidly as Eskel strips out of his clothes, cock bobbing half-hard from his tight breeches. Jaskier wets his sensitive lips and swallows the rush of saliva the sight gives him.

The easy grace with which Eskel moves is as captivating as the sight of him naked is, and Jaskier tracks him while he moves across the room. First to the hearth, making sure there’s a roaring fire there – never mind that they’ll be creating plenty of heat themselves soon enough – and then to a little wardrobe to the side, where he grabs something Jaskier can’t see. He returns to the bed in a handful of large strides, until he’s standing at the side. Jaskier stretches out so he can run light fingertips over a large, raised scar on his thigh.

Eskel just smiles.

“First things first, pretty thing,” Eskel says as he knees his way onto the bed. Jaskier shifts so the Witcher can settle between his legs. “This is a bit more intense than other things we’ve done with Axii. You get that, right?”

Jaskier swallows. “Yeah,” he nods.

“Good.” Eskel sets whatever he has in his hands to the side, but behind him so Jaskier still can’t see it. Jaskier isn’t sure if it’s deliberate or just coincidence, and decides it doesn’t really matter either way. “Now, you know the problem with using Axii for intense things.”

“I might not be able to safeword if I need to,” Jaskier parrots. They’ve discussed this. Numerous times, in fact. It’s why he and Eskel have never done much more than normal sex and filthy dirty talk while Jaskier is under the influence of the Sign. But at this point, having bedded Eskel – and the others – several times, he’s less concerned about it. Eskel knows what he likes and what he doesn’t, and he’s so far only had to use his check-in with him.

“Exactly,” Eskel nods. “So. I’m willing to try this, but it’s going to go a little differently than normal, alright?”

Jaskier nods. “Alright.” He’s not sure what would have to be different, but he trusts Eskel, knows that the Witcher has his best interests at heart.

Eskel smiles. “Always so good, pretty thing,” he murmurs, and leans forward to kiss Jaskier again, slow and deep. Jaskier groans, wrapping his arms around Eskel’s shoulders and otherwise relaxing. Eskel hums into the kiss and nibbles at his lips, top and then bottom, before swiping his tongue along Jaskier’s teeth and pulling back. “Could kiss you forever,” he whispers.

Jaskier whimpers. “Mm, I’d be fine with that.”

“Of course you would,” Eskel ducks a little and nips at the edge of Jaskier’s jaw. “Always so eager for anything we’ll give you. Just want to be the best we’ve ever had, don’t you, pretty thing?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Jaskier gasps out, cock throbbing at the idea. Eskel chuckles.

“You are,” he says. “Ruined the lot of us for anyone else.”

Jaskier squirms, both thrilled and a little guilty at the implication. Eskel chuckles again and disentangles Jaskier’s arms to sit back. He leans back and grabs whatever he’d gotten from the wardrobe, and now Jaskier can see it properly. It’s just a vial of oil, but the stopper on it looks odd, a shape Jaskier’s never seen before.

“Gotta make sure you’re wet enough, pretty thing, or it won’t be fun for either of us.”

“Yeah.” Jaskier nods his understanding, still studying the odd cap and trying to figure it out. Eskel fiddles with it for a second and part of it comes off, leaving the bottle still with a lid but with a small, tapered bit coming from the top.

“Tilt your hips up,” Eskel orders, and Jaskier plants his feet on the bed so he can obey. Eskel leans forward to snatch a pillow and shoves it under Jaskier’s hips, a little more forward so it keeps him raised higher. “Keep your legs spread like that.”

“I will.”

Eskel’s eyes twinkle. “Good, pretty thing. Very good.”

He tips the little vial, and a small dribble of oil coats his finger. He shuffles forward a little and paints that oil over Jaskier’s hole, making him jerk and whimper. It’s a little cold, but quickly warming, and Eskel’s fingertip is a near-unbearable tease as he massages gently at the little pucker.

“Try to relax, pretty thing,” Eskel says. “Axii will help, but right now, I need you as relaxed as you can get. Alright?”

Jaskier nods and takes a deep breath, focusing on each of his muscle groups and intentionally letting the tension drain out of him. It’s a slow process, but Eskel doesn’t say anything, just keeps rubbing gently against his hole. The touch is electric at the same time it’s soothing, and Jaskier soon finds himself feeling a little floaty, even though nothing more than that small touch has happened.

“Good,” Eskel coos. “Very good, pretty thing, you look so good.” He rubs a little harder against Jaskier’s hole, until that muscle releases a little. Just enough to be soft, nothing more, but Eskel finally pulls that finger back.

Jaskier’s eyes have fallen shut, so he doesn’t know what Eskel is doing when he pulls away. But he can feel the Witcher still on the bed, the warmth radiating from him. There’s another shift, and then something cold and unfamiliar is pressed against his hole. Not just against, either, _in,_ just a little, and Jaskier jolts and whines. Eskel hushes him.

“What is – ” Jaskier doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before he feels it; oil, slightly too cold but warming even quicker than what had been on Eskel’s finger, trickling slowly into him. “ _Oh._ Oh, fuck, Eskel.” He fights the urge to squirm away from the sensation, goosebumps flaring up over his legs and arms. Eskel chuckles but doesn’t move away, just tips the vial a little more, pushing the top of that cap a little further inside him. The trickle gets a little faster, the oil plenty warm now, and Jaskier gurgles at the unfamiliar sensation at the same time his cock twitches.

“You like this?” Eskel asks, a hint of tease to his voice, and Jaskier whines.

“I – I don’t _know,_ ” he breathes, fists clenching and unclenching as his toes curl and uncurl. “It’s – fuck – feels _weird,_ but – ”

“Not bad?”

Jaskier shakes his head. “Not bad,” he agrees. “Fuck.”

It’s several minutes before Eskel pulls the vial back, leaving Jaskier panting and a little dizzy.

“Move a little,” Eskel murmurs. “See how you feel with all of that inside you.”

Jaskier does as he’s told and whimpers, able to feel the oil sloshing inside of him, and if he pushes just a little, some of it dribbles out of him. Eskel makes a low, growly sound, and massages that little dribble back into Jaskier’s hole.

“Look at you, pretty thing,” he murmurs lowly. “Gonna wreck you, aren’t I?”

Jaskier whines. “Yes, please.”

Eskel laughs. “Alright,” he says, and there’s a little click and then an obscenely wet sound. Jaskier opens his eyes and looks to find the Witcher coating his cock in so much oil it’s dripping. His own cock throbs wildly and he tosses his head back with a groan, shifting around again and whimpering all over again at the slosh of the oil.

“Ready, pretty thing?”

Jaskier forces himself to lift his head again and look at Eskel. He swallows thickly at the sight of him, cock obscenely slick and standing proud from his body, eyes wide and dark. “Yeah.”

He watches Eskel’s hand form the Sign, feels the odd change in the air, and then his mind is gone, floating somewhere in the clouds.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he whispers.

“Relax, pretty thing.” Eskel’s voice is low, echoing but not, and Jaskier’s whole body goes loose. Loose enough that some oil starts to trickle out of him again, tickling, but he doesn’t move to change it. “Yeah, just like that. You’re so relaxed, Jaskier, no tension in your body at all.” Somehow the relaxation goes deeper, Jaskier making a soft, incoherent noise as his limbs go heavy as rocks, muscles practically liquid.

“So good, pretty thing. You’re gonna stay relaxed like that, alright? No matter what I do, you’re just so relaxed.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier slurs, eyes fluttering.

“And you’re going to tell me the truth whenever I ask something,” Eskel continues. “If I ask a question, I only want the truth, nothing else. Alright, Jaskier, pretty thing?”

“Yeah,” Jaskier repeats, just as slurred as before. “Truth.”

“Good,” Eskel praises. “Such a good boy for me.”

Jaskier makes a little, pleased noise, but otherwise remains completely slack, blinking lazily and slowly when he can even get his eyelids to open. Eskel touches him, moves his legs and shifts his hips, but Jaskier doesn’t try to help, body feeling like it’s full of water, heavy with stones. Eskel doesn’t seem to have any problem with the weight of him, though.

There’s pressure at his hole, but Jaskier doesn’t react to it except to whimper softly. Eskel hushes him, soft, soothing nonsense words, and the pressure increases. Increases, and increases, and increases, until it stings, Jaskier’s body forced open around it. He whines, and the pressure stops increasing, but doesn’t leave.

“What are you feeling, pretty thing? Remember, tell me the truth.”

“Stings,” Jaskier mumbles.

“Compare it to something for me. How much does it sting?”

Jaskier casts around in his empty head for words for a moment. “…fingers,” he says. “…three.”

Eskel hums. “Good, Jaskier, so good for me.” Jaskier makes a soft noise in response. There’s another shift, though the pressure still doesn’t leave, and then Eskel’s thumb is at his hole. He pets over the little ring of muscle, where it’s just barely forced open around the very tip of his cock. Jaskier whimpers, but he’s still too relaxed, no ability or desire to fight it or the pleasure shaking up his spine at the touch. “So good, pretty thing.”

The pressure starts to increase again, just a little. Little by little by little, and the sting is still there, but it’s soothed by Eskel’s thumb, still rubbing softly and slickly over the wrinkled skin. Eskel is saying something, under his breath, but Jaskier can’t parse it. Doesn’t bother to worry about it, too floaty.

He loses track for a while, the pressure and sting and soothing of Eskel’s thumb constant as time stretches around him like taffy. He’s making noise, he knows, whimpering and whining, and there’s goosebumps all over his body, raised and sensitive each time Eskel’s free hand brushes over them.

And then the head of Eskel’s cock pops inside him with a flare of heat and sharp pain and he makes a noise on the edge of a scream.

“Jaskier,” Eskel says, voice wavering. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“ _Hurts,_ ” Jaskier pants, squirming a little even with the lassitude still holding his limbs. And it’s the truth, because Eskel told him to tell the truth, but it’s – more than that, heat spilling through his body and cock throbbing, still hard, harder than before, even. “Feels – hot, _hot,_ good, hurts.”

“What do you want, pretty thing?”

“Stay,” Jaskier mumbles. “Stay. Hurts. Good.”

“Alright,” Eskel says softly. “I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” Jaskier breathes, and finally stops squirming, the water returning to his limbs and keeping him down. His ass throbs lightly along with his cock, and he clenches along with it, mind hazy and letting his body do as it will.

After a moment of stillness, Eskel goes back to rubbing softly at his rim, and Jaskier makes a soft, wanting sound. Eskel chuckles.

“Gods, you’re so tight, pretty thing,” he murmurs. “Tight and hot around me, squeezing like that. Best – fuck – best thing I’ve ever felt, pretty thing, you have the nicest little ass. Take me in so well, every time.”

Jaskier whines, eyes fluttering, and the pain is starting to flow away, leaving just the heat and the sensation of _not enough._ “Eskel,” he whimpers, “Eskel, want – more.”

“Already, pretty thing?” Eskel asks, a smile in his voice. “Tell me how you feel.”

“Good,” Jaskier says. “Not enough. Hot.”

“Alright.” Eskel starts to move again, still petting at Jaskier’s rim. He sinks deeper, millimeter by millimeter, filling Jaskier so slowly he’s sure he’ll suffocate from want.

“ _More,_ ” he whines. The pain flares again but there’s more heat, too, and the stretch is making him ache in that way he loves. Instead of moving, though, Eskel stops.

“Patience, Jaskier,” he pants, and his voice is strained. “I won’t hurt you. Relax.”

Jaskier feels himself melt further into the bed, and he groans, long and loud. Eskel chuckles, but it’s broken.

“So fucking tight,” he hisses. “As wet as a girl, with that oil, but so fucking tight. Like a godsdamned vice, pretty thing. Gonna let me fuck you open, aren’t you? Once you’re used to my cock filling you up like this.”

“ _Eskel._ ”

Another broken chuckle, but the Witcher moves again. Still glacier-slow, thick cock forcing Jaskier’s body open bit by bit, pain and ache and throbbing heat settling into Jaskier’s gut until his cock drools.

“Look at you,” Eskel murmurs. “Still so hard, even under Axii and all loose. Does it hurt, pretty thing? My cock pushing inside you like this?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Jaskier half-sobs it. “Want _more._ ”

“Good.” Eskel is still pressing forward, the pressure and heat of it inexorable even with how godsawful slow he’s going. Jaskier can’t do much, just pant and whine and whimper for it, ass clenching around the intrusion. His limbs are still leaden, Eskel’s _relax_ enough to hold him down. “Almost halfway, pretty thing. Tell me how you feel.”

“Desperate,” is the word that leaks out of Jaskier’s lips, without so much as a thought, and Eskel laughs at that.

“Oh?” he asks. “Desperate, huh.” He stops moving, and Jaskier whimpers pleadingly. The Witcher’s thumb is back, petting around his hole and fondling his balls, even when it makes Jaskier clench hard and he hisses. “You’re always desperate, aren’t you, pretty thing. Always gagging for a cock – doesn’t matter whose it is. Bet I could call the others in right now, let them watch me force you open with just my cock. Let them see you sob and whine when I fuck you, until you come on my cock, whether you want to or not. Let them take turns once I’m finished.”

Jaskier makes a choked sound and his head thrashes as much as he’s able. Eskel laughs again.

“Oh, I know you’d like that. Let all of us fuck you in a row, wouldn’t you.” His cock starts pushing forward again, and Jaskier outright sobs, tears starting to leak from his eyes as the pain and pleasure both slam back into him like a punch.

“Eskel, Eskel, Eskel,” he sobs.

“I want you to imagine it, pretty thing,” Eskel orders. “Imagine if Vesemir was watching you right now, watching me wreck you on my cock. What would your daddy think, pretty thing? Think seeing you sob on my cock would get him hard? I think it would. Imagine it, Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s empty mind is suddenly filled with images, with sound; Vesemir’s voice cooing at him, the sight of his heavy cock in his scarred fist, his big, dark eyes when Jaskier is good. He sobs again and thrashes his head, something like a scream spilling from him when Eskel’s cock slowly, _slowly_ pushes over his prostate.

“Oh, there it is,” Eskel coos. “Tell me how you feel.”

“ _Good,_ ” Jaskier whimpers. “So good, hurts still, _fuck._ ”

“I don’t think it’s gonna stop hurting, pretty thing,” Eskel says, and his voice is dark, half-growl. Jaskier’s stomach swoops and he clenches around Eskel’s cock with another sob. “Oh, fuck, you like that, don’t you?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“Fuh – _fuck,_ pretty thing,” Eskel groans. “Gods, that’s – you’re such a little slut. Look at you. Half impaled on me, no prep at all, just all messy with oil and desperate for it, letting me take over your mind. _Asking_ me to.”

“Eskel, Eskel, _please._ ”

“It’s going to hurt,” Eskel pants. “It’s going to hurt when I fuck you. It’ll _ache,_ pretty thing, even when I’m done and I’ve filled you up with my cum. Forcing you open like this – you’re gonna ache for days. Everyone will notice it. You’re gonna have to explain to your daddy what happened, aren’t you? Gonna have to explain that you wanted me to fuck you open like this, nothing but oil and my cock. Think he’ll be disappointed? Or will it get him hard? I think it’ll get him hard. It’d get Geralt and Lambert hard, I know that. They’ll all want to fuck you when they hear about this. Might want to try it themselves, get you all messy and slick like a woman and force you down on them.”

Jaskier’s head is spinning, body flooded with pain and pleasure so hot he’s sure he’ll burst into flames, ass clenching so hard around Eskel’s invading cock he can practically feel the individual veins. “Fuck,” he hisses, tears still streaming down his face. “Fuck, fuck – ”

“So _fucking tight,_ ” Eskel hisses. “Fucking – come for me, pretty thing.”

Jaskier wails as the orgasm crashes over him, intense and immediate, no build up. His heart feels like it’ll beat out of his chest, muscles tensing and relaxing in turns as the pleasure washes over him, pulsing out spend across his stomach and chest. “ _Eskel!_ ” He’s dizzy with it, with the heat and the pressure of Eskel’s cock against his prostate, the ache that’s burning into his body and nestling in to stay, just like Eskel said. His cock throbs again, spills out another little dribble of cum, and he sobs. Finally, the high ebbs back, and he settles back into the relaxation, chest heaving with each breath as his heart ricochets around his ribs.

“Almost there, pretty thing,” Eskel pants. “Almost got my whole cock into you. Let you get used to that and then I’ll fuck you. You’re gonna scream, aren’t you? Wail and whine like the best little whore for it. They’ll hear you, you know. Barely anything’s a secret in this castle.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jaskier whimpers. He feels weak and shaky from his orgasm, limbs even more leaden than before. Eskel is still sinking into him, oil slick and making soft, wet sounds as Jaskier clenches around him and cries. He feels so big like this, and Jaskier feels tiny, feels like he should be able to feel Eskel’s cock in his throat. He wonders if he presses down on his belly if they’d be able to see the shape of Eskel through him. “ _Fuck._ ”

Eskel chuckles, then hisses, and Jaskier feels his balls press up against his ass. “Fuck, pretty thing, look at that.”

Jaskier manages to pry open his eyes and sees that Eskel is looking down between them, at where his cock is sunk clear to the base in Jaskier’s body. Jaskier feels his thumb again, tracing over his rim where it’s almost taut around Eskel’s cock, sensitive and puffy. He whimpers.

Eskel looks back up. “Come,” he orders, and Jaskier’s vision goes black as the pleasure crashes through him with all the grace of a tsunami.

* * *

When Jaskier comes to, he’s aching and sore and still full, Eskel leaning over him with dark, wild eyes.

Axii is gone, Jaskier can tell. He whimpers and squirms, feels the way Eskel’s cock shifts inside him, and whimpers some more. “Eskel,” he murmurs, and his voice is _ruined._ “Oh, fuck.”

“Never seen you come that hard, pretty thing,” Eskel murmurs, reaching up and pushing Jaskier’s sweaty hair away from his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Jaskier rasps. “Fuck – hurts, Eskel.”

“Want me out?”

Jaskier shakes his head. “No,” he says. “You – you said you’d fuck me. Said it would hurt. Want it.”

Eskel’s eyes squeeze shut and he grunts, hips grinding forward, pressing him just a tiny bit deeper into Jaskier’s ass. It sends a pulse of heat to Jaskier’s gut, and his soft cock starts to twitch back to life.

“Gods, Jaskier,” Eskel hisses. “You – _fuck._ ”

Jaskier shifts his hips, eyes rolling at the flare of pleasure and deep-seated ache both. “You said you’d make me scream. Want you to do it, Eskel, want to feel your cock in me for days.”

Eskel ducks down and kisses him, harsh and biting, and Jaskier just groans into it, clenching around the fullness of Eskel’s cock.

“Want Axii again, pretty thing?” Eskel asks when the kiss finally breaks.

Jaskier gasps at the idea. “Mm – what will you make me do?”

Eskel chuckles. “Whatever I want, pretty thing, like usual.”

“ _Gods,_ ” Jaskier pants. “Yes, please. Fuck.”

He closes his eyes, wanting to focus on the feeling, and his skin tingles when Eskel shifts. The Sign washes over him and he whimpers, nothing but Eskel’s cock and Eskel’s will to fill him up.

“Move, pretty thing,” Eskel orders. “Want you to try and ride my cock from your back.”

Jaskier cries out when his body obeys, squirming around until he can rock his hips the barest bit. It’s not enough, barely even movement at all, but Eskel purrs approvingly.

“Yeah, just like that,” he murmurs. “Look at you. So desperate for it. I want you to beg, pretty thing. Tell me exactly what you want and how badly you want me to give it to you.”

The words tumble out of Jaskier’s mouth in a rush, no real coherent order to them. “Want you to fuck me,” he pants, still moving his hips, “want you to ruin me, fill me until you can’t come anymore, so I’ll leak all night. Make me so sore I can’t sit for a week. Bruise my insides so I remember how hard you fucked me every time there’s a cock in me for a month. Want it so badly, Eskel, please, I’ll do whatever you want for it. Be your personal cocksleeve for the next week, let you fuck my ass or my throat whenever and wherever you want, Eskel, _please,_ I’ll be so good for you, give you anything you want – _anything,_ I promise – ”

“Sweet fucking _gods,_ Jaskier, you’re _filthy,_ ” Eskel hisses, and kisses the rest of Jaskier’s pleading words straight out of his mouth. Jaskier melts into the kiss, tongue sloppy and lips practically numb, still jerking his hips and feeling the barest shift of Eskel’s cock as he tries so hard to move. “Next winter, I’m going to come with toys. Get all kinds of pretty things for you, so we can really have some fun. How does that sound, pretty thing? Think I should get you something real big, make you sit on it for hours in the common area while we all use your mouth. Could get you something with a knot, make sure you’re really full, as full as you need, for hours and hours.”

Jaskier makes a pathetic, keening noise, and then Eskel is moving, and it turns into a desperate, breathless scream.

Eskel is grunting like a wild animal as he moves, thrusts hard and sharp and deep, and Jaskier is crying again, cock twitching and bouncing wildly between them. Each thrust passes roughly over Jaskier’s prostate, and he’s already so close, teetering over the edge.

“Eskel,” he whimpers. “Eskel, Eskel, Eskel.”

The Sign breaks, and Jaskier looses his breath as the pain and ache and pleasure and heat slam into him all at once. He screams again as he comes, spreading wet heat between their bellies. Eskel doesn’t stop, doesn’t even say anything, just grunts deeper and fucks him. And fucks him, and fucks him, until Jaskier is sobbing and hiccupping with each thrust, cock still half-hard and throbbing between them.

“Gonna come,” Eskel finally growls. “I’m gonna come, Jaskier, and I’m not gonna stop. Just gonna fuck you until I come again unless you safeword. Really make sure you’re as fucked out and sore as you want to be.”

Jaskier whimpers breathily and nods wildly, squirming around under Eskel’s pinning weight. “Yes, please, please, _Eskel._ ”

The Witcher snarls, leaning down and sinking his teeth into Jaskier’s throat, and comes. Jaskier moans when he feels it, impossibly deep inside him as Eskel grinds into him. He clenches in a sloppy half rhythm, whining through the shocks of pleasure and pain with each movement, trying to milk Eskel of everything he has.

“Fucking – ” Eskel growls and bites him again. “Little _whore,_ going to keep you in this bed for the rest of the _night_ – ”

He starts moving again, cock not even going soft, and Jaskier lets himself collapse into the hazy space the pleasure has carved out for him, whimpering in pain with each thrust but not safewording, never safewording because he _wants_ this. Wants to feel the ache and listen to the way Eskel growls and snarls and loses grip on his nice, sweet persona. Time loses all meaning, the only things that matter are the sensations flaring through Jaskier’s body. Pain, pleasure. Heat and heat and heat. More pleasure, a deep ache blooming in his ass and spreading to his gut.

He tunes back in to Eskel whimpering, “Pretty thing, pretty thing,” in his ear.

“Eskel,” he gasps, arching when a particularly brutal thrust slams into his prostate. His cock fills all the way again, so quickly it makes him sob. “Eskel.”

“Gonna – Axii again, pretty thing,” Eskel whispers, and Jaskier just makes a broken, affirmative noise and clenches down on his cock to feel the ache of it.

“ _Fuck._ ”

It doesn’t feel much different when the Sign comes over him this time, not that he has the time to think about that, because Eskel is speaking, and his whole body tunes into it, blood thrumming along with the growl in his voice.

“You’ll come at the same time I do,” he snarls. “You’ll be able to feel it, pretty thing, feel me flooding you full, and it’s gonna feel so good you’ll come too.”

Jaskier’s voice catches in his throat and the order washes over him like scalding water. His body is wound up, clenched tight around Eskel, making the ache so much worse at the same time the pleasure flares bright, brighter. Right on the edge of coming, right there, his system just waiting for that feeling. Eskel fucks him harder, faster, rhythm breaking down into nothing, until he’s rutting like the animal he sounds like.

“Right there, pretty thing,” he growls. “Right – oh, fuck – _there._ ”

Jaskier feels the flood of wet heat in ways he shouldn’t, whole body lighting up with the sensation. He can’t breathe, vision gone spotty and covered with riotous color all at once as his body convulses, arms and legs and ass wrapped so tightly around Eskel that surely something will bruise. He’s screaming again, but he can’t hear it, can just hear his blood rushing and Eskel growling, feel the way his throat is tearing with the noise.

Axii fades away, and Jaskier convulses again, everything locked up with the combination of pleasure and pain. He makes a pathetic, weak little sound, like a baby animal of some kind, and he feels the way Eskel’s cock, still hard inside him, twitches at it.

“Can’t – want – Eskel,” he gasps, mind reeling as his body continues to pulse. “I, I don’t – Let – Lettenhove?”

“Shit,” Eskel hisses, and he’s starting to pull out, slowly, but Jaskier wails.

“No!” he shouts, and Eskel stops.

“Jaskier?” he asks, voice soft. “Look at me, pretty thing, look at me, please.”

Jaskier forces his eyes open, and his vision is blurry with tears. “Eskel,” he whimpers.

“I’m right here, pretty thing, Jaskier, I’m right here. You safeworded, sweetheart, what do you need?”

Jaskier’s head is spinning. “I – I don’t – just – hold me? Kiss me. Please. Need….”

Eskel ducks close and wraps keeping arms around him, presses sweet, open-mouthed kisses along his shoulder, up his throat, over the edge of his jaw. “What do you need, pretty thing? I’ll give you whatever you want, whatever you need, I swear it. Tell me, sweet thing.”

Jaskier blinks and turns his head, catches Eskel’s mouth with his. Eskel kisses him, soft and slow, sensual, and Jaskier’s heart starts to slow. His brain gets a little less fuzzy. When Eskel starts to pull away, probably to ask something, Jaskier grabs his hair and keeps him. He only lets the kiss break for little gasps of air, until finally he feels settled into his body again, pain starting to push past his limits.

“Okay,” he whispers, right against Eskel’s mouth. “You can – out, now. Slowly. Fuck.”

“Of course, pretty thing.” Eskel starts to move, pulling his softening cock out of Jaskier nearly as slow as he’d forced it in, in the beginning. It stings, and Jaskier lets the tears fall, gasping and panting and pulling at Eskel’s hair until he’s free, and Jaskier is empty. That hurts, too, but less now, and Jaskier knows it’ll be better eventually. Or, well, it’ll turn into the nice kind of aching sore later.

“Fuck,” Jaskier pants, eyes rolling. “Fuck, that was – _fuck._ ”

“What do you need, pretty thing?” Eskel asks sweetly, dropping little, chaste kisses all over Jaskier’s face.

“Mm,” Jaskier blinks and catches Eskel’s mouth again. “Just – stay here. Close. For a bit.”

“Of course.” Eskel holds him a little tighter, a little closer, and Jaskier tightens his own hold, legs and arms still thrown around Eskel’s body. “For as long as you need.”

Jaskier sighs and lets himself relax, cataloging all of the aches and pains and where he’s messy – the answer is, well, everywhere, to all of them. “Mm,” he hums again. “Gonna – we’ll need a bath.”

“Whenever you want, sweetheart,” Eskel murmurs. “I’ll carry you down and do all of the work. You won’t even have to think about it. You can sleep, if you want. How does that sound?”

Jaskier sighs again. “Wonderful,” he answers. “Not right now. Kiss me again.”

Eskel makes a soft sound of assent. This kiss is just as slow and sensual as the last, Eskel’s tongue more of a tease than a presence, and it settles Jaskier further, allows him to really let go of the pain and intensity from their fucking. They’ll need to talk, he realizes distantly, but it will have to happen tomorrow. Or maybe the next day. Jaskier feels like he could sleep for several days, given the chance.

“What if I sleep for days?” he asks, a little slurred, when the kiss finally breaks again.

“Then we’ll let you sleep,” Eskel promises. “We’ll give you everything you need, pretty thing, wait on you hand and foot if that’s what you want.”

“Mm.” Jaskier blinks slowly. “I – mm. Want…want daddy.”

“Want me to get Vesemir?” Eskel confirms, and Jaskier nods. Eskel chews his lip for a moment, but nods.

“Alright, sweet thing. Do you think you’re okay with moving?”

Jaskier shakes his head. “No, just – he’ll hear, if you shout?”

“He should,” Eskel says. “If I shout loud enough.”

“Okay.” Jaskier nods.

“Gonna cover your ears, sweetheart, so I don’t hurt you.”

“Okay.”

Eskel’s hands cup over his ears, tight and muffling. Jaskier closes his eyes again. He vaguely hears the way Eskel shouts, but it’s not terribly loud to him. Eskel kisses him again when he’s done, and Jaskier sighs into it, limbs starting to go limp where they’re curled around the Witcher.

He hears the door open.

“What is it, Eskel?”

“Jaskier,” Eskel answers, breaking their kiss. Jaskier pouts. “He safeworded a bit ago. Said he wanted you.”

“Daddy,” Jaskier slurs, and there’s suddenly a familiar, comforting hand in his hair.

“Right here, little bird. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Jaskier murmurs. Now that Vesemir is nearby, he feels very much like he could just sleep. “Sore. Wanted…. Mm. Bathtime?”

Eskel chuckles. “I promised him we could take a bath and I’d do all the work.”

“Gonna sleep,” Jaskier mumbles. “Want – both of you.”

“Of course, little bird. We’re both right here. We’re not going anywhere.”

“Mm. Good.”

Jaskier lets sleep take him.

**Author's Note:**

> is this filthier than 'great vices'? maybe. when i go to hell, i'm definitely gonna be punished for lust first and foremost. oops.
> 
> while this was not meant to become a series, there are actually a handful more ideas i have in this little 'verse, so there will probably be more at some point. 
> 
> validate my nonsense with comments, it makes more nonsense happen!!! (also, i make no guarantees, but ideas will definitely be considered 👀)


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